"Trust no one, tell your secrets to nobody and no one will ever betray you."

~Bigvai Volcy

Merlin's POV

"Ready to go?" I ask Arthur, mounted high on his horse. He turns away from me, a distantly angry look in his eyes. I feel a pang of regret at telling him about my magic, but I know that I had to. He had to know the truth, didn't he? I glance at Gaius and he gives me a sympathetic look. I sigh and walk over to him.

He places a hand on my shoulder. "It will be all right, Merlin." he assures me softly.

"He's already been through so much betrayal," I shake my head, "I think learning that I have magic broke him. I don't know if he'll ever trust me again." My voice breaks on the last word and I choke back the sob that has been threatening to rise up my throat since I told Arthur the truth. Honesty shouldn't hurt so much.

"Don't worry, Merlin. He'll come around." He opens his arms to hug me and I melt into the embrace, letting him comfort me. "If Arthur can trust anyone," he adds, breathing directly into my ear, "it is you."

He releases me and I step back. "Ride carefully, Gaius."

"You, too, Merlin. You can do this."

I nod quickly and walk to my horse, ducking my head when I pass Arthur. I climb into the saddle, grab the reins, and turn to Arthur, a fake smile plastered on my face. "Well, off we go, then." I say in the most cheerful voice I can muster.

He ignores me.

*

*

*

*

I pull my horse to a stop in the huge clearing. Behind me, I hear mutter something angrily, but he stops next to me.

I begin to dismount and am interrupted by Arthur's voice, full of quiet scorn. "Merlin, what on earth are you doing?"

Just like old times.

I jump, hearing him speak my name. I continue dismounting and consider ignoring him like he's been doing to me, but I know before my feet hit the ground that I will answer him. I'm just so glad that he's speaking to me again, no matter how hostile.

"We're catching a ride." I say with fake enthusiasm, still avoiding his gaze.

Arthur snorts. "What are you talking about?"

I sigh and look at him, biting my lip. I make a decision and take a deep breath. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." I murmur, "So you'll just have to wait until I show you. Just try not to freak out, all right?"

He looks at me questioningly, eyebrows raised, lips pressed into a hard line. I turn my back on him and walk to the center of the clearing. A soft breeze rustles the leaves on the trees surrounding the clearing. The grass sways gently in the wind. The scent of flowers reaches my nose and I inhale deeply, closing my eyes. My father's voice echoes in my mind, as it always does when I use the gift he passed down to me. I have the words memorized by now. 'You are the last Dragonlord now. You alone carry the ancient gift. Deep within yourself you must find the voice that you and Kilgharrah share, for your soul and his are brothers. When you speak to him as kin,he must obey your will.'

I reach deep into my soul, to the magical part of me that watches with a detached, knowing sort of calm. Immediately words begin to stream into my mind, words in an ancient language that I don't quite understand, but I know they will say what I need them to say.

I open my mouth and let the words fly out. They fill the air, ringing deeply with power. "Ah, Drakon! Ego postulo succurro! Sed Iaeditur Coenelius sonare potest et eros eget!"

My eyes fly open and I can feel them flash gold. Moments later I hear steady wingbeats and Kilgharrah comes into view. I hear Arthur gasp behind me and I glance back to see him drawing his sword. "No!" I shout to him. "It's alright! He's a friend!"

"You're friends with a dragon?!" he cries incredulously.

I grin. "It's a long story." I step back, closer to Arthur, to give the massive dragon room to land. His huge feet hit the ground with a dull thud and he folds his wings gingerly against his sides.

"Kilgharrah. I'm sorry. I wouldn't have summoned you if there was any other choice, but I really need your help." I tell him.

"I know, Merlin. You do not use your gift carelessly." Kilgharrah replies. He turns his massive head to level his ancient golden gaze on Arthur. "And you, Arthur Pendragon I believe I owe you and Camelot an apology." With that the dragon slowly lowers himself into a kneeling position, his chin nearly brushing the grass of the clearing.

I look at Arthur. The king blinks in shock and shoots me a panicked look as if to say What do I do? I stifle a laugh. It's not every day that an enormous, centuries-old dragon bows before you, asking for your forgiveness.

"Um....what for?" Arthur stammers, sounding none-too-kingly, though I can't really blame him. I cough to cover the laugh that has clawed its way up my throat. Arthur glares at me, his blue eyes scorching, and I am instantly sobered by his uncharacteristic anger.

I clear my throat. "Um...Kilgharrah is the dragon that attacked Camelot a few years ago." I explain awkwardly. "The man...the, uh, Dragonlord, Balinor that we met...he..." I take a deep breath, hesitant to speak the words that I know will only shake Arthur's faith in me. Again. I set my jaw and plunge forward, the truth spilling out of my mouth in a torrent of emotion. "He was my father. Whe he died," my voice falters momentarily, "I became the last Dragonlord. I commanded Kilgharrah to stop attacking Camelot." I glance up at Arthur, afraid of what I might see.

Nothing.

Arthur's face is blank, his eyes as empty as if someone has erased his very essence, everything that makes him who he is-Arthur Pendragon. My King. My friend-and all that remains is this lifeless shell standing before me.

A long silence follows, filled only by the whistling of the wind in the trees and the creaking of Kilgharrah's bones as he lifts himself to his feet. With each beat of my heart, each inhale and exhale of the stale and empty air, the ache in my chest grows until I fear I might explode. No, implode. I am crumbling in on myself because my best friend hates me and I can't bear the emptiness in his eyes. It reminds me too much of the emptiness in my heart.

Suddenly the pain is too much. I have to do something. "Arthur, I-" I blurt out.

"Don't." Arthur interrupts me in a flat whisper. He breathes deeply for a few moments, clenching his jaw. Finally he speaks again. "You said I killed him."

"I'm sorry-"

"What else have you lied to me about?" He turns his empty eyes on me, their familiar shade of blue piercing me like a sword and I cannot find my voice. I stand there searching for something, anything, to say, but I am struggling to even breathe around the pain in my chest. Arthur continues, his blank face flushing red with anger. "Has anything you've ever told me been true?"

"Yes." I choke out, my voice barely a whisper. "I told you that I am your friend. That has always been true, Arthur. I /am/ your friend."

He shakes his head and I feel my very being shatter at his words. "No. You were never my friend. You are a liar and a traitor." He pauses for a moment, but when he continues his voice is still devoid of emotion. "If I wasn't wounded I would kill you right here."

I feel tears, hot and unwelcome, rolling down my cheeks. They mercifully blur my vision, concealing Arthur's face. I turn my head away, still able to feel his cold gaze fixed on me.

A raspy growl reverberates through the clearing, shaking the trees and blowing the grass flat around us. "ENOUGH!" Kilgharrah's voice sears the air, the single word so full of authority that I take a step back, shocked. "Merlin has done what he felt was right for you and for the future of Albion since the day he arrived in Camelot, all those years ago. Were it not for him you would be dead a hundred times over, Arthur Pendragon. I would not be so quick to judge if I were you."

The dragon turns to me. I blink rapidly and wipe at my face with my sleeve, trying to clear the tears from my eyes. When Kilgharrah looks at me, his eyes are kind. Their warm glow flows over me like honey pouring from one of Gaius' clay pots. "What do you need, young warlock?"

I swallow. "Arthur is injured." I explain, my voice wavering. "Mordred stabbed him."

"That is within your power to heal."

I shake my head. "The blade was forged in a dragon's breath. My magic is useless."

Anger flashes in Kilgharrah's golden eyes and a low growl rises in his throat. "Aithusa." he snarls. I nod. "I warned you of Mordred's treachery many years ago, Merlin. As I did with Morgana."

"I know. I should have listened to you." I lament. "I'm sorry."

"It is in the past." he shifts his wings. "What would you have me do? I cannot heal him any more than you can, Merlin."

"I know. But there is a place where I might have a chance; Avalon."

Kilgharrah nods. "It is true that magic, especially healing magic, is stronger there." He takes a breath, considering. "Yes, Merlin. I belive you can do this."

"But it is too far away." I explain. "With every minute the tip of Mordred's blade moves closer to Arthur's heart. He'll never make it on horseback." I swallow. "So I need your help. Can you fly us there? Please, I know you're tired and you've helped me so much already, but it is my only chance to save Arthur." A lump rises in my throat, the echo of my unfinished tears, and suddenly I don't care that Arthur is listening and that he hates me and that he will probably think this is all just an act because I have to save him. "It's my only chance to save my friend."

Kilgharrah is blurry through my tears, but I can see the kindness in his wise old eyes. "You are truly worthy of your great gifts, young warlock. You have the kindest, most loyal soul I have ever seen. Yes, Merlin, I will help you. I will serve the Once and Future King and the great warlock emrys, his faithful servant and friend, until I draw my last breath." he lowers his massive head until it rests gently on my shoulder and I realize that i have never touched him before except to ride him. "Do not worry, Merlin." his deep, raspy voice rumbles in my chest. "You can do this."